


by the wicked ways of love

by blanchtt



Category: Orphan Black (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-06
Updated: 2018-02-06
Packaged: 2019-03-14 10:48:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13588482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blanchtt/pseuds/blanchtt
Summary: Delphine sees Cosima from across the lecture hall and feels herself smile—she strides over, and kisses Cosima on the cheek, threads an arm through Cosima’s. She hadn’t really wanted to come to the lecture alone, no matter her end goal.





	by the wicked ways of love

**Author's Note:**

> Anonymous ask for French Leather + sell my soul for the rare pair writing prompt + I wanted to explore Sarah's bisexuality as more than just one drunken kiss.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Delphine sees Cosima from across the lecture hall and feels herself smile—she strides over, and kisses Cosima on the cheek, threads an arm through Cosima’s. She hadn’t really wanted to come to the lecture alone, no matter her end goal.

 

“You came,” Delphine says happily, and feels a thread of worry begin to worm its way into her heart as Cosima scowls, as Cosima crosses her arms more tightly, trapping Delphine’s arm in what only looks like a loving motion and forcing her to take a step closer.

 

“You really _can’t_ tell us apart,” Sarah laughs sharply, both bitter and amused, and Delphine swallows thickly, fumbles for some reason for her script regardless as she glances away, embarrassed, and catches sight of Aldous approaching.

 

Barely a minute after sassing him, Sarah's grip loosens, and Delphine slips her arm away, though she does't get far—Sarah takes her hand instead, winks at her, and discreetly slips a bottle of wine off the table and under her jacket as they head toward the door.

 

 

 

 

-

 

 

 

 

It starts off as an argument. She walks into the lab, their designated blood draw site to keep their lives and science separate, and knows enough by now to see that it is Sarah once again squinting over Cosima’s glasses. She's done her eyeliner and her hair more neatly that last time, since she's masquerading as Cosima at her place of work where people will know the difference, and Delphine wonders—hurt or annoyed, she's not sure which—if Cosima helped her.

 

“Hey, Del- _feen_.”

 

“Sarah, really,” Delphine says, trying to keep the sigh from her voice, and turns around, packs away the things she'd laid out in preparation. There will be no blood draw today. It is Cosima that all signs show she should worry about, not Sarah. “You have to call Cosima and tell her to do this," Delphine says, turning around to face Sarah. "Please.”

 

Delphine watches as Sarah takes off Cosima's glasses and hooks the frame over the collar of her dress for safekeeping, a distinctly un-Cosima move, and leans against the table before shrugging loosely, an incomprehensible look on her face and clearly not about to leave. “You know how she gets,” Sarah says after a moment, and _yes_ , Delphine can understand that exactly. And it amuses her to watch Sarah, to think that Sarah's been on the receiving end of Cosima's ire, too. Sarah shrugs again, looks at her, serious, and says, “It’s my blood or nothin’ at all.”

 

Delphine says something—she’s forgotten what exactly, something harsh and sincere— _tu me fais vraiment_ chier _, tu sais?_ —because Cosima makes her so _irritated_ sometimes with her stubbornness. Cosima knows DYAD is going to be able to tell her and her sisters apart and only someone with no knowledge of biology would think it were that simple, that they could just swap blood, and the daringness in the face of some very dire consequences both awe and vex her.

 

And Sarah is grinning at her too now, and Delphine wonders if she can walk up to Aldous' office, take off her badge, lay it on his desk, and catch the first flight back to Paris, but Sarah stands and swaggers over, hands in her pockets. Delphine sighs, closes her eyes, feels Sarah very close and then the touch of Sarah's lips on her own, surprisingly sweet as Sarah's hands slide slowly up her shoulders, her neck, and stop, cupping her jaw.

 

They stay like that, Sarah's hips against hers, Delphine's hand on the small of her back, lost in the taste of Sarah, before Delphine collects herself enough to pull away, to open her eyes and find Sarah watching her from very close, grinning, and Delphine knows her own eyes must be dark with something other than simply anger.

 

“Y’know, you’re kind of hot when you’re pissed off,” Sarah says in her low voice, and Delphine makes a noncommittal hum, tired of words, and turns, taking Sarah with her, and it not surprised in the least that Sarah is as comfortable pinning her against the steel table as she is being pinned. 

 

 

 

 

-

 

 

 

 

It works just as well the second time. Either DYAD knows exactly what they’re doing and it’s all a trap, or the fame’s gone to Leekie’s head and he can't tell two women apart who are as different as night and day. As for herself, Delphine thinks, she likes to imagine that by now she knows them both well enough to avoid making the same mistake twice.

 

Sarah’s eyes light up, eyeteeth visible in the smirk she gives her before eyes rake up and down her body, taking in the heels, the dress, the lipstick as Sarah walks through the party and over to her. Delphine takes a rather large drink of whatever she's grabbed from the bar, wonders if this is all penance for lying in the first place.

 

“Hey, beautiful,” Sarah says in a passable imitation of a California accent. It has her missing Sarah’s real voice, but as Sarah sidles up to her, looking out into the crowd, the hand that grabs her ass and squeezes is all Sarah. “You look _awesome_ ," Sarah says, before getting down to business. _"_ Where is he?”

 

“Don’t worry,” Delphine says, reaching down and moving Sarah’s hand up to a more appropriate location on her waist. “He’ll find us.”

 

“I think I’m going to ask for, like, a raise,” Sarah muses airily, fingers squeezing against her hip, tugging her closer, and Delphine can’t help but laugh. “Fuck him. And a lab, too.”

 

 

 

 

-

 

 

 

 

She takes a step back, wonders how many Ledas are going to do this and, a small part of her wonders, what this means from a scientific standpoint. First Sarah, and now Cosima.

 

“I get it,” Cosima says, taking the silence as a bad sign. There's a chagrined smile on her face as she takes a step back, hands up between them, and Delphine wonders what in the world to say next. “You’re not gay.”

“No... I..." Delphine starts, an answer to another question. But the rest of the words lodge in her throat and Cosima hurries to smooth things over, and in the end it takes a drink of two, but they laugh it off and connive as planned, and she goes home giddy with the thought of everything she's keeping from Aldous.

 

 

 

 

-

 

 

 

 

As the hour grows later, they begin to drop off one by one. Alison leaves first, Sarah takes to drinking in the kitchen, and after they've spent hours pouring over codes Felix noisily puts away his paints, complaining of a lack of beauty sleep. It is, as Delphine understands, his way of saying he's like for them all to turn the lights off and let him sleep. At some point not long after, bereft over what they’ve just discovered, Cosima follows.

 

She’s metaphorically and physically in the dog house, Delphine knows. She’s left alone in the living room, and so she closes her laptop, places it on the coffee table. She’d like nothing more than for Cosima to believe her, now of all times, so she hangs around, intent on proving her loyalty, and takes the couch, drapes her jacket over herself and tries to sleep.

 

She’s almost nodded off when, almost forgotten, Sarah apparently starts cleaning up quietly in the kitchen—there's the click of a glass being placed in the sink to be cleaned another day, the heavy sound of a bottle of something being put back in its rightful place on the counter, the flick of the last light in the flat being turned off that has Delphine opening her eyes.

 

In the dark Sarah's motions are only suggestions—Delphine's left to fill them in from memory. Sarah slipping off her boots, her jacket, tossing it all somewhere with a muted thump. It's already familiar though they've spent precious few nights together. Unusual, though, is Sarah pausing just a pace away from the couch, walking off in another direction, rustling for something before returning. 

 

Whatever Rachel has in store for her will go far worse if she were ever to learn about her involvement with Sarah rather than Cosima, as was probably DYAD's intention from the start. But Delphine ignores work and clones and danger, thinks of nothing more than arching closer to the back of the couch to make room, only breathes deeply as Sarah settles behind her and drapes a blanket over them both. 

 

Under the blanket, Sarah's arm hooks over her waist, skimming over the hem of her blouse and coming to rest on her breast, and Delphine reaches out, threads fingers through Sarah’s, and pulls her closer.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
